Wedlock
by Bear1magnati0n
Summary: A proposal is made that changes all of their lives, whether for good or bad has yet to be determined. Through the dangers that come along with this arrangement, will it turn out alright, or will they be lost?
1. Ch 1 - Molly's Break

Hello, I don't own anything except this idea I came up with.

I don't own the show, and I certainly don't own the characters.

Needing a break from her paperwork, Molly got up and stretched her stiff muscles then walked away to get a refill of coffee. As she stood awaiting the coffee to finish brewing, she remarked on how such a simple act led her thoughts to drift towards a certain consulting detective. Maybe it was because she was always quick to give him coffee whenever he came in, truthfully she easily let him have anything he wanted from her, but she knew the real reason was that she could not, in fact, ever stop thinking about him. That served to both hurt and heal her constantly bruised heart.

After everything that happened he had become much more friendly. She took joy in discovering that not only did she count and he trusted her, but he now regarded her as an actual friend. Of course she still wanted to be more to him and she chided herself for being greedy. She knew when it came to Sherlock, friends were just about the closest things he had, he didn't do any form of romantic entanglements and she was no exception no matter how much she wanted to be.

Although she never told him of her feelings, she was pretty sure he already knew, even if he never mentioned them. At times she imagined what would transpire should she actually outright tell him, usually it ended with her having a broken heart and dashed hopes. She knew that would be the reality, but sometimes she let her fantasies go crazy and allowed herself the happiness that came from imagining him returning those feelings.

She sighed when brought out of her thoughts and poured the freshly made steaming coffee into her cup and started back toward the lab to finish her paperwork. Her mind was still on the subject of Sherlock as she reached her desk, she knew she needed to stop thinking of him and return her focus to the work in front of her. Instead, to her frustration, she couldn't put him out of her head and it was running wild with thoughts of him that she couldn't rein in. Somehow they managed to shift toward memories of the past and zeroed in on those precious months that helped shape their change in dynamic.

For nearly six months after the fall he resided with her until going off on his own. During that time they had grown closer, so much so that he actually exposed his more vulnerable side to her. She knew it was due to the loss of his whole world outside of just her - well his brother Mycroft remained too, though he refused to acknowledge him for the most part- that caused him to seek comfort from her.

As easily as she provided him with everything else, she did the same at that time by giving him what comfort she could and tried to shield him from his pain. Of course he would never admit to it and she was never to speak of it, but it was a secret she shared with him and one she held dear.

During his stay, she came to know him much more than she had ever imagined she would, both the bad and the good. Let it be said that she no longer looked at Sherlock Holmes through rose colored glasses. She had seen all of what makes him uniquely him and at times it was maddening, especially when he got bored, and then when he began doing things to keep himself occupied.

Various experiments were done, she still had burns on many of the surfaces in her flat to prove it. He often demanded things from her like sneaking him body parts, which she was hardly ever able to do with the investigation of her work that came as a repercussion of working with Sherlock Holmes.

Luckily she kept her job, but that meant that those times she took home paperwork he would usually look it over, judge her work, and sometimes stumble upon things she missed or overlooked. Occasionally it turned out that the cause of death was not natural and he would get a special kind of glee from uncovering a murder.

Suspicions were definitely raised, especially from Lestrade, when she started suggesting some of her patients had actually been victims of murder. Sure she had often been able to find things like that out by herself, she was after all a noted pathologist, but with Sherlock's help, there was a lot more details and evidence.

It got increasingly worse, to the point that he took to disguising himself and came into the lab to look at the bodies himself. Then went about investigating the crime to later report his finding to her. This he did all in his spare time when not fulfilled by his other eccentric activities or when not looking for ways to destroy Moriarty's network.

This eventually led to him solving most of the cases, others would be left to be dealt with by the police. The only problem was he couldn't do anything about it when he solved a crime since, technically, he was dead. So he ended up making her reveal that knowledge to the police, usually to Lestrade because Sherlock believed everyone else relatively incompetent and thought they would not go on her word anyway, but knew Lestrade would. He was right, of course, many of the others she tried tended to scoff at her assumptions, which were actually Sherlock's but she couldn't tell them that.

So she ended up doing a lot more work with Greg, as well as John - who immediately took to the thrill of cases once again, even if it wasn't exactly the same without Sherlock - so much so that Greg, John, and her became close friends. It may have also had something to do with the fact that they were all tied together through Sherlock and had needed comfort after his demise, so jumped at the chance of all working together on the cases Molly would conveniently bring up.

John had also become suspicious of her sudden increase in crime solving abilities, but didn't do much other than make some comments on it, mostly remarking on how Sherlock really had made a big difference in all of their lives and changed everyone he knew. He had no idea how right that statement was and just how different her life had become, or just how much she had been changed because of Sherlock. Her whole world had changed again when he left on his own, and shifted once more when, about two years after he jumped off that rooftop, he returned and revealed his continued existed to the world.

She wasn't given the exact details, but Sherlock had went in depth about uncovering Richard Brooks as a fake and was able to convince everyone of his innocence as well as restore his credibility. Besides that, she was unclear about the rest of the evidence he had gathered that proved the rest of it, but she wasn't one of those that needed to be convinced, she had known the truth about him all along.

Her musing of the past events revolving around Sherlock were broken when the man himself came through the doors with his platonic life partner following along. She could immediately feel the rush that came from just seeing him and hoped to God he hadn't noticed her daydreaming about him or the look on her face as she was. She tried her best not to blush and to instead give a nice welcoming smile. Surprisingly, the corner of his lips upturned in a small smile as well while he glided toward her.

Her eyes fluttered and face faltered as he came to a stop right in front of her only to look down at her.

_Why had he come so close?_

Her mind wondered as he took to looking her over and analyzing her.

No pen in hand, discarded on the desk - meaning not currently working on the paperwork in front of her; and, judging from the start she gave when we entered, was distracted by something else on her mind -is holding a coffee mug instead. Fresh coffee, still hot. Leaning back in chair, trying to be comfortable, back hurts again probably.

She shifted a bit in her chair as his intense gaze swept over her. Realizing he was just standing there staring at her, she immediately thought she should talk to him, he must want something.

_Had a body come in?_

She was sure she would have known if one had, but she had finished up the last autopsy already and had to settle for paperwork. Maybe it was one of the already finished bodies he wanted to look at. A possible murder, otherwise John wouldn't have come along, he didn't like to hang around much for Sherlock's experiments.

He talked first, probably because she hadn't said anything as he came in or as she allowed him to just stand and stare at her.

"Hello Molly, trying to relax after working on your paperwork for so long?" Although it came out as a question she knew he already had the answer, she responded anyway.

"Hello Sherlock. Yes, just took a short break is all."

"Needed more coffee to keep you going for the long shift you've been on. Ran out of corpses that needed autopsies done on, now forced to do the paperwork for the ones you did. Leaning over for prolonged period of time causing the ache in your back and stiffness in your neck and shoulders, as well as that pinch in your forehead you get when you are in pain."

Damn he was brilliant and got it spot on. She had been thinking about taking a pain reliever with her coffee, but thought against it since she needed to eat still and taking medication on an empty stomach was not such a good idea.

Which upon thinking about those things, Sherlock, as if he could read her mind, deciphered it.

"Why have you not taken something to get rid of the pain? Ah, haven't eaten yet, wouldn't risk it on an empty stomach. Oh and you were distracted by something else, but not about your work. Daydreaming during your breaks again, hmm Molly?"

A sly grin spread across his face as he gauged her reaction.

Now embarrassed being caught daydreaming by the subject of those very same dreams, Molly couldn't fight the slight blush that crept over her face.

"I , um, yes. Well, I mean that I was going to take a pain reliever, but I need to get some food in me first. Which is what I think I should go do, yes I think I will just go do that then."

As she started to stand up, he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from doing so. Her eyes widened, he didn't often touch her so it was always a surprise when he did. After he removed his hand, her face took on an inquisitive look.

"We can get you food later." He waved off her still questioning look.

"Okay, so what do you need?" It was obvious that he required something from her, why else would he not let her leave.

"I need you."

It was the same question and answer they seemed to use a lot more, it was almost like a secret joke between the two of them, except it never held a joking tone only a serious one. She nodded at him as her acceptance of it.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw John leaning on the side of one of the lab tables - the one Sherlock used whenever he needed it - his arms were folded across his chest. He had been watching them talking, and after hearing the conversations direction he became more alert and listened closer. At the moment, Molly could see John eyeing Sherlock uneasily with a suspicious look as if he believed him to be up to something, but unsure of just what it was.

Drawing her attention back to the man still unusually close to her, she continued down along the path with the familiar dialogue.

"What do you need from me?"

John continued to watch the conversation unfold in front of him. He stood off to the side waiting, not knowing what the plan was, Sherlock had neglected to tell him, or maybe it was on purpose. Then a thought dawned on him.

_Oh no, he's not going to-_ the thought was interrupted as his hunch was confirmed. It was too late, Sherlock was already saying the words that John had hoped to stop him from.

Sherlock, not realizing the damage that would be done, or what repercussions it would have, responded to Molly's question with these words.

"I need you to marry me Molly."

Behind him, he heard John mutter a swear.

It was a statement more than a question, but the significance of what he said still struck her and words seemed to fail her. To her credit, she tried desperately to form a sentence, only to end up fumbling her words.

"M-marry… you-you … _me_?"

Her voice squeaked at the end of her question, not believing he would ever want her, especially _her_. Why her? Why here and now? Was he in love with her? When would that have happened and why wouldn't she have noticed before if he was? Questions seemed to race in her mind, at the same time her mind felt muddled and unable to comprehend what was happening, what she believed couldn't possibly be happening.

In Sherlock fashion, he didn't understand the true implications of the words he had spoken, but recognized her confusion on the matter and took to talking to her as if she were a small child that he was trying to make understand.

"Yes Molly, that is what I just said, you marry me, do you understand?"

At which point she was rendered entirely speechless, couldn't quite process what she was hearing. She looked as if she were in shock while confusion still swam in her eyes.

Confused by her lack of understanding such a simple thing, he looked back at John for guidance only to see him covering his face with his hand and slightly shaking his head, a sign that something he had done would be considered not good, but he didn't know what.

This is me trying my hand at writing fan fiction so if you liked it and think I should continue, please let me know. Any feedback is welcome. I tried to keep true to the characters and hope that came across. I do plan to continue this, it doesn't end there in my head, in fact that is not even where everything started. I have a lot planned for this that I am hoping everyone likes.


	2. Ch 2 - From Bars to Bodies

Oh I am so happy after finding out people are interested in reading my story. You really have no idea how excited I was to learn that you wanted me to continue. Thank you for reviewing, following, and just for continuing to read this.

Now, don't be disappointed, but this chapter will be going back, not continuing from the point it was at. That will come later.

Again I own nothing except the concept for this story.

…

It all started with Lestrade and John in a bar.

Although they had invited Sherlock along he had vehemently refused the offer on the spot. Use to his rude remarks, neither took offense when he went on about the absurdity of going out to a bar to consume copious amounts of alcohol that both damages and hampers the body and mind. He also might have mentioned something about his distaste for the social environment there.

Suffice to say they got the point that he didn't want to go and weren't about to try and convince him otherwise, more like they fled as soon as possible before he could continue on with his list of reasons. One of which, Lestrade assumed, had to be about his history with substance abuse and addiction, but he was not about to say anything that would supply Sherlock with extra fuel and further their torture.

…

Both men intended to get good and well smashed. They were on their way as they discussed their current problems to each other.

One that immediately caught John's interest was a case Lestrade was forming. He believed these two separate cases that were committed a month apart were connected. It seemed quite obvious, but it appeared only he had noticed the similarities between the two.

He also feared that, if they were linked, it could mean there was a serial killer on the loose. Then he would have to worry about a whole flurry of other problems including when the killer might strike again.

John suggested letting Sherlock in on it, he could help and would be able to tell if the they were actually connected or not. From the way Greg had describe the murders it was highly plausible they were related and John knew Sherlock would enjoy this case if put on it. Sherlock was already itching for another case as it was and this would be perfect to solve both dilemmas.

Lestrade conceded that it may be best to put him on the case, or at the very least, get him to verify the theory.

That was the begging of it.

…

The next day John woke up dealing with a raging headache and a wish that he could lay in his bed forever and never move again. Eventually he willed himself up and out of bed to face the day ahead. He prayed Sherlock would not be in a mood or would take to shooting out of boredom. He didn't think he could handle that today.

The day got on pretty well, Sherlock was nowhere to be seen until sunset was creeping on. John enjoyed his peace and solitude whilst it lasted.

"Where have you been then?" He asked as Sherlock shrugged off his coat.

"Out." Was Sherlock's simple reply.

It always managed to aggravate John when Sherlock was purposely unclear or stubborn about releasing information, especially when said information could be vital for him to know for both of their survival.

"Yes, I could tell you were gone, but where is it you went to?" John attempted being more specific with his question in hopes of actually gaining an answer.

Sherlock made an exaggerated sigh as he sat down in his chair.

"If you must know, I went to St. Bart's to do some experiments while you slept. I highly doubt you actually want to hear all the details." It was obvious, from the lack of a good case in nearly three weeks, that Sherlock was getting increasingly antsy and it was clearly taking its toll - on both of them.

"Oh okay, well then, hope you had fun with that." John paused, not knowing what else to say on that matter.

"I did." He broke the silence giving John a way to continue.

"Good, that's good."

Another pause.

"Look Sherlock, you know I just wanted to make sure you weren't running off on your own on a case or something and getting yourself into danger."

It was like having a guard dog to defend you, that's how he often saw John Watson's concern and over-protectiveness. Other times John reminded him of a mother, always so caring, and thoughtful of others, and definitely fiercely protective of the ones he loved. John was also constantly worrying about him and nagging him about eating and sleeping, as well as cleaning up after himself, very much like a mother would do.

"Don't worry so much John, if I got a dangerous case I would be sure to bring you along, hang over or not."

Sherlock said trying to reassure John that he would not get himself into risky situations without his help, in fact he barely worked cases without John coming along with him anyway.

"How very considerate of you." John deadpanned at Sherlock's attempt to comfort him.

"Now that that's settled, I am feeling rather peckish." He changed the subject to shift John's worry over him being gone.

"When's the last time you ate? Did you even eat at all today?" Instantly going into mother mode, John began his fretting over Sherlock's eating habits and need to eat.

"I ate yesterday." He replied casually, unconcerned over the subject of food. It was only sustenance needed to survive, he knew he could go quite a while without it before being at risk of dying.

He heard John huff and watched as he got up and went to the kitchen to check their supplies. As he did that, he mumbled his dissatisfaction with Sherlock's answer and his disapproval of him not eating like a regular person. Whether or not Sherlock could hear him was beside the point.

Sherlock already knew this routine, knew John's concerns and opinion on the matter, and had yet to yield to John's incessant complaints that urged him to form a normal diet.

Rummaging through the kitchen produced little reward, so they would have to settle for takeout.

…

Although happily filled with food, both men found themselves in a heated argument.

"Why did you not tell me this sooner John? I could have been investigating, instead you didn't tell me and let me squander my time doing experiments." His experiments may be important to him, but investigating is what he lived for and John knew this, or at least he should by now.

The thrill he got from the cases he did, at least the good ones, was unmatched by anything else he had ever done. It is what made the blood in his veins pump. Although gaining results from his experiments were exciting at times, nothing else had ever compared to the exhilaration of a damn good case.

"If you hadn't noticed Sherlock, I was kind of wasted when I got home, barely even remember getting here. You should be happy I managed to remembered what Greg told me last night at all." John countered just as exasperated.

This conversation was quickly headed south and turning into a full on verbal fight. Both were clearly getting more furious by the second.

"Besides, there's nothing you could have done at that time anyway. It was the middle of the night on a Saturday. You have to wait until tomorrow to even get started, so would you kindly back off and stop taking your pent-up frustrations out on me!" John nearly yelled at him as his own ire continued to rise.

Sherlock was quiet for a moment and then had to ruin it by dragging out the argument.

"I can be very productive even not within the regular working hours of normal people. However, given your state and the fact that I would probably have caused many to become incensed if I had pursued the case today, I will acknowledge that I must wait until tomorrow to take action and that it was not entirely your fault."

"Not entirely my fault, is that right? More like, not at all my fault. Sherlock even if I had told you as soon as I saw you, there is nothing you could have done about it. What were you thinking you could do, huh? Did you think you would be able to go get the police files anyway? You know you wouldn't have been allowed to, not legally anyway and you would have been arrested if you tried to steal case files."

"You don't know that." Sherlock said with a pout.

"We both know that Sherlock. Now don't act like a child just because things didn't work out the way you wanted." John scolded him.

"Fine then. I'm going to bed." With that Sherlock stalked off to his bedroom, he hadn't slept for a while and if he was going to be on a case soon, he would need rest.

John stayed where he was for a few more minutes before cleaning up the mess at the table, putting away the leftovers, and headed to bed himself. Both of them were still upset with each other, but they would move past it just as they always did.

…

Saturday Greg and John got plastered.

Sunday Sherlock had learned of the murders Lestrade believed to be linked and saw the potential for a fun new case.

Now Monday you can bet Sherlock was storming into the Lestrade's office to be put on the case or at least be given something.

He would even settle for just taking a look at the murders to see if they were related. Okay, that was a lie, he wanted in on the action if it was there. Even if it turned out the two cases were actually separate, he would solve them.

Three weeks, it had been three weeks and he needed a good mystery to solve. At the prospect of what Lestrade might be onto, he felt that rush he got from a particularly exceptional case, he was truly hoping it wouldn't end up disappointing him.

Lestrade was so used to people flying in and out of his office, so he didn't even blink when Sherlock barged in.

"Well good morning Sherlock, getting an early start today I see. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"John told me about your possible serial killer and that you were going to put me on the case, so naturally I came to have a look at the files to begin the investigation." Sherlock strode right to the front of Lestrade's desk and reached out his hand to signal him to give over the case files.

Greg rolled his eyes at the gesture then proceeded to do as Sherlock wanted. As soon as he received them he delved right in.

"There, happy? Okay, now it has already been two weeks since the last one was done, I fear we don't have much time before it happens again, that is if I am correct that they are connected and it is the work of a serial killer. You see my theory is that -" He was cut off by Sherlock holding up his hand in a way to stop him from talking.

"I'm reading and would like to form my own theories, you can tell me yours later."

Just then John came in and gave an apologetic look to Lestrade.

"Sorry Greg, I tried to stop him, but he insisted we come here at this ungodly hour and begin on the case. Apparently I fell behind so he continued on without me, I hope he hasn't been giving you too much grief."

"Not yet, but he has just started so who knows what the day has in store." Lestrade responded with a teasing smile at Sherlock who wasn't paying attention at all. John smirked at Greg's comment before both of their attentions went to Sherlock who had skimmed through the files and deduced all that he could from them.

"Congratulations you have a serial killer on your hands. I can already tell from the files that the cases are related, but an inspection of the bodies and fingers would have given me more to gather information from, hence, you should have brought me in on this sooner. At least before the bodies were sent off back to the families." Sherlock declared, frustrated that he would miss out on gathering so much from the bodies.

"Well, I wanted to work this case and get somewhere on my own, maybe figure out who the killer was. Anyway, we still have the fingers, you can inspect those to your heart's content. We'll just head on down to the morgue and -" Lestrade began, but was interrupted, again.

"What right now?" Sherlock looked appalled as if Lestrade had gone insane and the very idea of going to the morgue at this particular time was preposterous.

"Yes, why not now?" His brow furrowed in confusion, not understanding Sherlock's sudden change in behavior or his hesitance to go to the morgue. He was on the case now so wouldn't he want to go through all the evidence available as quickly as possible? Plus, Lestrade knew he loved the morgue and the lab and used them all the time, so why was he being this way?

"We can't go there _now_, Molly's not working right now, and that means we would have to deal with someone _else_." He said this as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yes you would. I don't see a problem with working with someone else. I'll be with you so they will have to grant you access no matter what." Clearly not seeing an issue with the situation, Lestrade attempted to convince him it would be fine.

He huffed and in a clipped voice said "Fine." He turned away from them then strode to the office door and swung it open and continued on his way with his coat billowing out behind him.

"I guess we'll just head down there now then." He sounded grumpy and Lestrade was pretty sure he detected a pout.

"Wow. Your description of him being a man-child fits perfectly for this situation. He is acting the same as a child does when they don't get their way." Lestrade muttered to John as they followed Sherlock.

"Yeah, you don't know the half of it." John grumbled back.

…..

Now arriving at St. Bart's they started toward the morgue.

"I don't really see what the big fuss is about, what does it matter at what time you go to the morgue?"

"I have already told you, did you not hear me or are you purposefully being obtuse?" Sherlock's tone was still grumpy and held a bite to it.

"So the reason really is that Molly is not the person you will be interacting with which is causing you to get all bent out of shape?"

"Everyone else is incompetent or unbearable to be around. She willingly gives me access to things and doesn't fight me on it. She helps me to accomplish what I need to get done, and she is a valuable asset."

"Well then, if it means that much to you that you work exclusively with her, we can just wait until she comes in for work." Lestrade was fighting a growing smile from the turn this conversation took.

"Don't be ridiculous, we are already heading there and it would be a grand waste of time to wait around until her shift starts at one o'clock. We have work to be getting done and as long as they are not complete imbeciles, I think I can manage."

"Right. Okay then. Wait. How is it you know when her shift starts? And why do you know that?" Now with both an open smile and a glint of suspicion in his eye, he had to see where this was heading.

"He finds it to be useful information to have so he can gain access to the lab and anything he needs from there which is done the easiest with her providing him with whatever he wants or demands from her. That's why he memorizes her schedule and any changes that take place in it, to get what he wants with the least hassle." John supplied for Sherlock, but noted the look Lestrade had.

"Yes. Thank you John for explaining that, it is so tedious to have to explain such matters to others and make them understand things that should be relatively obvious if they would simply think about it."

"Really? So that's the _only_ reason you went to all the trouble of memorizing her schedule and purposely coming to the morgue only when she is working?" It definitely sounded as if he was suggesting something.

"Well that and he cares about her and grown closer with her, he now sees her as a _friend_." John was now adding to Lestrade's fire and causing him to further this insinuation.

"Oh really now. Does he? Interesting. I hadn't realized he felt like that."

"What? Am I not allowed to have friends? I never had them before, but I have come to find I quite enjoy having those that I consider my friends."

"I'm glad you have grown and enjoy having friends - we all are trust me - but that leads me to wonder about that causing you to go further than that, maybe with a special someone. " Lestrade said as he wiggled his eyebrows and John muffled a laugh. Sherlock whirled around and faced both of them.

"What is it?" He demanded in a haughty voice.

"What is what? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about Sherlock." Lestrade shrugged as he pretended to be entirely innocent.

"You were obviously implying something more is going on than what actually is and I am asking what you are implying?" His tone was bordering on threatening, but he didn't scare anyone and Lestrade wasn't one that was pushed around easily.

"You are Sherlock, you should be able to figure it out."

"I don't wish to waste any more of my time on this silly game." Sherlock grit his teeth and turned back away from both of them again to continue towards the morgue.

"You know I have noticed he goes there a lot more now." John was far from letting this be over and decided to help Lestrade tease Sherlock.

"Oh does he now?" Lestrade asked John to get him to continue.

"In fact he was there on Sunday until it was almost dark out."

"With Molly?"

"I do believe she was working that day, wasn't she, Sherlock?" John forced Sherlock back into this 'silly game' as he had called it.

He begrudgingly gave his affirmation.

"Yes, she just so happened to have work to catch up on and talked with Stamford about coming in on Sunday."

"So it wasn't just a coincidence, you actually went there knowing she would be there." Lestrade and John were most definitely enjoying this.

"What does that matter? She works there and had planned on coming in on Sunday ahead of time, so of course I knew. I had experiments I wanted to do, so I went there. I could have just as likely stayed home and done them."

"Exactly, you just made our point Sherlock." John said shaking his head as he and Lestrade laughed some at Sherlock's expense.

"What point?"

"Just never mind Sherlock, were here so go have fun with your fingers. Maybe you can figure out who the killer is just by looking at them." Lestrade was done playing since they had arrived at their destination finally.

The D.I. easily gained access for them to see the fingers and they examined them. There were only two, thus far, but both were cut off with the same tool. The fingers came from only two of the four victims, it was all they found of those two people. As for the other two victims, their entire bodies were found intact except missing one finger. Sherlock was still upset he wouldn't be able to look over those bodies.

Looking at the fingers alone wasn't much to go on, but he gathered as much as he could from them.

"Were they alive when their fingers were cut off? It seems as if they were."

"Yeah, they were alive, they could still be alive. We never found the rest of them so we don't know for sure that they are actually dead. The sick bastard could still have them somewhere, could still be taking off pieces of them or something." Lestrade spat hating the very idea.

It was a sick thought, but it was true, not finding their bodies could mean that they were still alive and being held captive.

"I highly doubt that, but maybe you are right Lestrade. I have deduced all I can, now we should return home to allow me to think. Come along John." With that he started his way out of the morgue and back to their flat. He was definitely sounding more chipper already.

"Can we keep these files?" John asked Greg to make sure he could take them and look them over himself.

"Sure, I have another copy back in my office, I'll have to make another one though."

"Thanks, see you later." John went off to catch up with the consulting detective leaving the D.I. with the cut off fingers in front of him to be put back.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see where things go from here." Lestrade muttered to himself before leaving as well.

…..

How do you like the story? Do you all understand what is happening with the victims? I wasn't sure if I made it clear enough. It will be talked about again, so maybe then it will be clear.

I hope you are enjoying this. If you are, please feel free to review or follow or whatever you'd like to let me know.


	3. Ch 3 - Of Epiphanies and Plans

Hello again everyone, here is the latest update of this story. Hopefully it helps to give you all an idea of what is going on. Of course, it will all be revealed in due time, but this is basically the jumping off point and will show the direction of what and where the story is headed for.

This is, down towards the end bit, a continuation from where the first chapter left off. Alright, so enjoy.

I still don't own this stuff, only the weird story I made up in my head that I'm writing down for others to read.

…

It had been three days since being put on the case and John was getting worried over Sherlock's lack of activity. He had not moved except to sometimes get up and pace, then return to either sitting in his chair or hurl himself onto the couch and lay back to continue thinking. John was especially concerned over the fact that Sherlock had not eaten or slept for the past three days, and only taken to drink small amounts of whatever beverage he gave him.

Now staring at an indiscriminant location, he was entirely off in his own mind. He was unaware of John speaking to him until he came to stand right next to where he lay on the couch.

"Sherlock, are you even listening to me?" He was clearly irritated by the lack of response he was getting.

This though seemed to finally get through to Sherlock and shake him from his trance.

"Hmm? What was that John?" Sherlock slightly tipped his head up and to the side to look at John's face.

John huffed a breathe and, once again, repeated his question.

"I was saying I am going to have something to eat and telling you that you need to eat too, so I was asking what you would like."

Sherlock simply waved it off and said, "Nothing for me, I don't need to eat, what I need is to solve this case and you know that eating will only serve to slow me down, which is not what anyone needs."

"You don't need to eat? Sherlock, yes you do, you are a human being, you require some form of nourishment. If you keep this up you really are going to die one day and then you won't be of use to anyone. Now you are eating whether you like it or not, and don't try to argue with me on this." He put his metaphorical foot down on the subject.

Sighing, Sherlock knew John would not quit until he finally got him to eat, so he gave up and saved them both the trouble of going through the same fight they'd had plenty of other times. He told John to just make him whatever he was having.

John started for the kitchen before turning back to Sherlock and hovering right above him to which Sherlock just lazily looked back at him.

"I know you want to be able to solve cases within days, figure it all out before everyone else and prove how smart you are, but realistically it is not always going to happen that way. You've had cases before like this where it took you several weeks to crack. What I am saying here, Sherlock, is you won't always be able to solve the case immediately and you need to start taking better care of yourself while on them. I'm not going to be around forever to be your babysitter and watch you to make sure you eat and sleep like a normal person." John ended his rant with a nod of his head, obviously trying to subliminally reinforce his statement and make Sherlock see it as the truth.

After a moment of staring up at him, Sherlock spoke up.

"You don't think I can solve this case quickly?"

"Really? That is all you took from that? My God." He sighed and put his head in his hand. Moving past that, he took a few steps away from where Sherlock was, and picked up the abandoned case files on the desk then brought them in front of Sherlock.

"If you want to solve this case so quickly why not look over these again, maybe you can get something from them." John insisted as he waved the case files at him.

"I already have all the information stored up here." Sherlock tapped his head with his index finger twice and then brought his hand back into its position clasped in his other hand at his chin.

"Yes, but don't you always say that a second look can reveal more than the first, or something like that?" He saw that Sherlock seemed to be considering what he was saying.

"Why don't you tell me what you see, John, it is sometimes even more useful to see what normal people can gather from the evidence that I could not see because I do not function the same as them."

John knew Sherlock did not mean to be insulting, but it still served to make him a bit peeved at the dig on his intelligence that Sherlock seemed to constantly use by calling him normal or even as far as stupid. Compared to Sherlock, many people would be considered dumb, but John still felt slighted by his ease of calling everyone, including him, idiots.

Pushing past the insult, John looked over the case files for the third time since they received them from Lestrade.

Nothing new really popped out at him, it was still the same two couples, the first was Sven and Patricia Lund, the second was Darius and Erica Harley. Sven was a 41 year old Swedish white male with blonde hair, his wife Patricia was a 37 year old Japanese woman with straight black hair. For the second couple, Darius was a 26 year old English black male with dark brown hair and Erica was a 24 year old red headed Irish woman.

Two different married couples that seemed to have no link. They all lived in London, but that was too broad to be useful. None were linked through their jobs, they didn't seem to know each other at all, no familial ties, nothing. There was only the way that they died and the fact that they were married that made any kind of connection between the couples.

Well, at least it was confirmed that the women were dead, they had their bodies, minus their ring fingers, but the only piece of the men found was their ring fingers. Oddly enough, when each of the woman's bodies were found, the man's finger was in place of where the woman's should be.

At first, the people on scene had been more concerned over the actual body to really notice the weird finger in place of what should be a woman's. When they had a closer look, they discovered that oddity. It wasn't like the finger was even sewn onto the woman's hand, it was just placed there, cut and bloody, jammed into the spot between the pinkie and middle finger.

John wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, or if it was really even that important past just being the killer's signature, and even that he wasn't sure of.

He was really not in the mood to feel stupid, and saying the wrong thing or something that Sherlock would deem as unimportant, would definitely make him feel as such.

"I don't really see anything new, it's still two married couples. Only the women were found and only the ring finger of the men were retrieved. No one is sure whether or not the men are actually dead or not because the fingers were determined to have been cut off while they were alive. Obviously that implies that both victims were tortured to a certain extent, we see some of the signs and marks of torture on the women's bodies in the photo's, but can't say much about the men. Not sure what else there is here, both couples were of different ages, races, everything, it's like it doesn't matter to the killer who you are, or how old."

John looked at Sherlock who had been nodding at some points in his speech.

"Very good John, however, these are all things we already know, I need you to give me something we don't have, so use your brain and give me something new."

"I don't have anything to give, there is nothing I can see here that is new to me or to you. I think we are at a dead-end and the only way we will be able to figure anything else out is if the killer gives us more victims. Wow, now I sound like you." John shook his head and tried to hand the files over to Sherlock again, who refused to take them, so he laid them on his stomach and started walking away.

"Why don't you try going over it yourself if you think there is something we are missing, or better yet, put it up all spread out like you like to do when on one of your particularly difficult cases." At his suggestion Sherlock seemed to perk up and retrieve the case files from where they sat on his stomach.

John went into the kitchen and began rummaging around to make some food for the both of them and Sherlock got up and took John's advice.

…

Soon after John made some food and Sherlock started on his task of pinning the case files information all over the wall, there came a voice with a knock at the door.

"Yoo-hoo." When the door opened it revealed a grandmotherly woman with a kind smile directed at the first person she spotted in the room. John smiled back as Mrs. Hudson walked into the room.

"Just checking up on you boys. Everything alright up here? Can I get you anythi - Oh -" She abruptly stopped talking upon seeing Sherlock pinning things to the wall.

Clearly it was for the case they were on and she had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing many a crime scene photo with Sherlock as her tenant and did not wish to see any more. Quickly she turned the other way to avoid the images. Turning a blind eye was her best option in these scenarios, she had learned that lesson well.

"I just finished making some food, actually. Thank you for the offer though." John went to Sherlock and handed him a plate. Sherlock blindly obliged and began eating the food as he scanned the wall.

"Oh, well I guess since you don't need anything, I'll just get out of your hair, I'm sure your busy with that case you're on. Can't believe there would be someone so awful running about killing happily married couples for no good reason. It really is a shame that their love should be ended so soon after finding one another. I hope you dears find the one responsible for doing it."

She was still faced away from the wall, and the two of them, as she talked. At the end of her speaking she started out, turning the way that would avoid having to look at those pictures, and went towards the door, but was stopped suddenly.

"Repeat what you just said Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock commanded her in his serious voice as he stared so intensely at her it could almost be considered a glare. Mrs. Hudson looked over at him, still careful not to look at what was next to him on the wall, and, while a bit flustered, tried to re-gather her thoughts and recite what she said previously.

"Um, I just said how terrible it is that there's a serial killer murdering such lovely little couples for no reason and that it's always sad when people's lives and love are cut short like that. Oh, and that I hoped you find them soon, of course." She smiled at him hoping she had been able to help him in whatever way she could. When she saw his face change into one of elation she knew he had caught onto something, but what, she wasn't sure.

"You are just wonderful Mrs. Hudson, it's brilliant, it is." As he said this he moved to her and gripped her arms right near the shoulders with a look of pure joy on his face that made her smile widely.

"Well okay then dear, I'm glad you figured out whatever it was you needed to. I'll just be downstairs if either of you need me." Before she could leave, Sherlock moved his arms around her and gave her a brief, but big, hug. He then released her and returned to his wall actually having something to search in the papers scattered about there. Mrs. Hudson smiled happily and finally escaped without having to see those dreaded images.

…

Soon after Mrs. Hudson left, Sherlock finished up his perusal of the wall and seemed satisfied with what he had discovered if the happy smug look on his face was anything to go by.

John was still lost, not seeing what his friend did among the papers. He knew if he wanted to find out he would eventually have to point blank ask Sherlock about it, but at first he challenged himself to figure out what new revelation Sherlock had come upon.

With Sherlock no longer looking at the wall, and instead pacing back and forth, John finally gave up and gave into his curiosity.

"Alright, let's have it. What did you find?" The only response he got was a growing wide grin on his friends face who then motioned to the pinned up case file papers.

"Yes, I can see them. What I don't see is what you figured out, so don't play this silly game of 'I'm smarter than you and everyone else' and just tell me what new information you have. Come on, out with it."

"You know, I'm feeling rather quite sleepy. I think I will be turning in for the night. Goodnight John." He said so politely while still smiling as he started his way past John and to his bedroom.

"Whoa, wait, what? What about the case?" John asked flabbergasted by Sherlock actually wanting to sleep, especially during a case, and even more questionable, right when he had a break through.

"You really shouldn't have fed me if you wanted me to continue functioning on my level. Now you have reduced me to a human's needs and I require sleep." He commented as he continued his journey to his room.

"Aren't you at least going to tell me what you figured out?" John asked to his receding back. Then his eyes went wide and mouth went agape when his next thought graced his mind instantly angering him.

"Oh you are _not_ doing this on purpose just so you don't have to tell me. Sherlock? Sherlock!" He yelled after him as he watched him escape to his bedroom.

He once again looked at the wall. Then, after coming up empty, he resigned himself to not knowing for now and retired to his own bed. As he laid down to sleep, he was still fuming over Sherlock leaving him out of the loop and once again not sharing the information he had gathered.

…

The next day John was greeted with a well rested Sherlock looking clean and ready for the day ahead. He was dressed in attire he wore outside of the house, not the shabby old pajamas and robes he tended to wear about inside. This immediately alerted John that he was planning to go somewhere outside today, now all he needed to know was where, and what Sherlock was up to.

"You look good, slept well did you? I take it we are going somewhere today?" He asked while watching the man wearing a purple button up shirt and black slacks move towards him.

"Yes, very observant John, good job." The sarcasm was clearly evident in his voice.

"Oh and still managing to be a prat, forgot to say that bit. I've noticed that one plenty of times before, but I thought it was a given so I didn't mention it initially." John retorted to Sherlock's jab.

"Come now, don't be sore, we have much to get done today and I don't want to have you whining about some hurt feelings or whatnot." Sherlock waved off John's snide comment and started toward the door grabbing his coat and pulling it on.

John reluctantly got up from his spot in his chair, put the newspaper he was reading aside, and followed him out the door.

"Right, so where are we going then? Can you at least tell me that since you refused to let me in on what you found out yesterday?" He asked as they descended the stairs.

"We have a few places to go, for starters…" Sherlock made a whistle noise with his fingers and got a cab and they both got in. "We have to make sure that those idiots on scene didn't miss something when initially responding and investigating the crime, which means we are going to have a look at where the bodies were discovered." He told the driver the first location and off they went to check it out.

…

They finished inspecting both of the couples residences and found no foul play or anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Sherlock knew that since there was no signs of forced entry, the killer had access to the couples homes somehow.

Several theories were floating around in his mind and he was trying to gather all that he knew to formulate the best one out of it all.

What he knew was that these couples were taken and killed elsewhere then brought back to their homes. Otherwise, the killer would not have been able to hurt them before murdering them because they would have screamed or, if they had been gagged or something of that sort, at least made enough noise to warrant suspicion from neighbors. However, no one suspected anything or heard anything weird.

Plus there was no blood found in any of the other rooms, except for where the women were later discovered dead. If these people had been tortured, there would be signs, evidence, and definitely blood all over from both the way it sprayed from their bodies and just pools of it from where the blood dripped out of them.

Then there was the fact that the men's bodies were missing and only one finger was found, and it was the ring finger which held significance in its own right. Why take the woman's ring finger and leave the man's in its place?

He was pretty sure he was onto something as he formulated a plan.

…

Sherlock once again hailed a cab and got in telling the driver the next location they needed to go to. John climb into the cab just before it took off. He shot a look at Sherlock who simply shrugged back at him.

John sighed. "So that seemed like a complete waste of time, we didn't learn anything new."

Sherlock didn't respond only hummed back to which John gave him a weird and confused look.

"Did you learn something? Oh why am I even asking, you haven't told me anything you've learned on this case yet, so why should I expect you to now." John complained as they continued to ride in the cab when he suddenly realized they were not headed back to Baker Street.

"Uh, Sherlock? Where are we going? You said we were only investigating the places the bodies were found at, so what's going on?" He asked concerned over not knowing what Sherlock had in store for them.

"You'll see where were going in a minute John." Sherlock replied smoothly and caused John to scoff and want to throttle him. "As for what's going on, I will inform you about what I have discerned."

This seemed to instantly perk John up, he was finally going to let him in on what was happening.

"Really? Okay, great. Lay it on me."

"Very well, I shall." Sherlock reiterated all the thoughts running through his head, most of them John already knew, but some were different, new, or another way to look at things. It was always amazing to hear Sherlock's perspective on things and the way he came to see such things.

They were nearing their destination with John still enwrapped in what Sherlock was saying when he finally revealed the biggest part of the whole case that he had deduced, and that led him to make a foolproof plan. At least in his mind it was foolproof.

"The couples were married John." Sherlock sounded so excited by that fact as if it was new information they lacked before.

John nodded at him. "Yeah, they were. That's not new, we've known that the whole time."

That caused Sherlock to make a groaning noise, obviously not happy with John's inability to get what he was saying.

"No, John. That's not what I'm saying. Don't you see John?" To which John shook his head no. "Our killer targets newlywed couples, they were all married a month before the women's bodies were found. I checked the dates and it all makes so much sense now. Think about it John, how easy would it be to take people who are suppose to be gone anyway? They schedule time off to go have a wedding then after all of that is done and over with they run off on their honeymoon. People don't notice their missing because they are suppose to be gone and by the time they do notice and start looking for them it's already too late."

Sherlock now looked like a kid in a candy store he was so happy. "It truly is a brilliant idea."

"More like horrible and terrifying. Sherlock you shouldn't be so happy about all this, these people are being killed for some sicko's pleasure, and right after they get married, I mean, how awful." John looked saddened by Sherlock's revelation, not like what he had felt upon figuring it out.

Sherlock cleared his throat and his smile faded from his face.

"Yes, well, anyway. We now have a way we can track the killer, maybe even catch him." He no longer sounded excited or cheerful as he had a second ago.

"What? How are we going to do that? It's not like we can track every couple getting married, Sherlock."

"We can if we decide who's getting married." He stated as his smile crept back across his face while he looked over at John.

"No. No way. No way in hell, Sherlock. I'm not marrying you, you can just forget it, really, whatever your thinking, Sherlock, **NO**." John just kept shaking his head no again and again as he refused what Sherlock was proposing.

Sherlock simply waited for him to finish freaking out then spoke up to put John's mind at rest.

"While I do appreciate the offer, John, so far it has been heterosexual couples that have been targeted. To our knowledge no homosexual couples have been murdered by this serial killer, so I don't think we should stray from the pattern."

John seemed to accept this. "Right, good then. Also, I wasn't offering anything, I was rejecting you. So anyway, how are you planning on choosing who is getting married, or are you just going to trail around all of the couples getting married soon?"

John was still trying to process everything and understand just what Sherlock was going to do when St. Bart's came into view

"Don't worry John, I have a plan." Was all Sherlock said on the matter as they arrived at their destination.

…

Oh how much did John feel like smacking himself, and even more so, Sherlock. He really should have seen it coming, that Sherlock would go and do something like this. Of course his plan was to do something incredibly moronic, for a genius he was constantly proving himself to be an idiot, at least in social situations.

John didn't even know how Sherlock was going to justify asking - more like telling - Molly Hooper to marry him. He wondered if Sherlock really didn't realize just what he had done, or if he actually believed it was okay to use a human being the way Sherlock was going to use Molly for his scheme. Now he felt terrible thinking about Molly and how all of this was going to affect her, how would she react when she found out Sherlock was just doing this for a case?

Sherlock looked back from John to Molly who still had a stunned look on her face. He ignored it, figuring that she would snap out of it soon enough, and deciding that, in the meantime, they should all get going and start on the plan he had crafted. There was a lot to do and they needed to get started.

"Come along now there is much to be done." Sherlock claimed as he strode away without looking to see if anyone was actually following.

Truthfully, upon really facing her to ask her to marry him - not just planning it out in his head - it had caused him to feel a bit weird, nervous, and he hadn't liked that she was stirring any kind of feelings in him, so he stomped that out before it could affect him. Now he was simply trying to move past it and get on with his plan.

…

Molly was glad she putdown her coffee earlier because she was sure if she had been holding it when he said that, she would have dropped it. John looked over at her and gave her a strange look that she couldn't decipher. Then, she watched as Sherlock and John strode back out the way they had come in, leaving her alone and overwhelmed by everything that just happened.

After they were gone and out of sight, Molly remained in place staring after where he had been.

_A dream._ It had to be a dream, that's what made the most sense to her. She had, after all, been thinking of him and daydreaming about him right before it happened. Maybe that's all it really was a weird flight of fancy, for it had been off the wall and not how she had ever imagined she would be proposed to.

Plus it had been Sherlock, and that in and of itself was unimaginable seeing as he did not do girlfriends, but considering he just asked her to marry him, that would be skipping over that step. However, she knew he did not do any type of romantic relationship, that included getting married, so just what the hell was going on?

Also, he hadn't exactly asked her, more like made it mandatory that she comply and marry him. She hadn't even said that she would marry him, and he just left believing that he had her acceptance on the subject. That was a bit arrogant on his part wasn't it?

She really just did not know what to do about this new development or what would happen after she sorted everything out.

…

"Sherlock where the hell are we going now, and just what the bloody hell was that back there? Don't tell me that was your brilliant plan because let me tell you something Sherlock, it was bloody stupid." John, Sherlock could tell, was angry.

He turned back to face him and explain when he noticed that it was only John behind him, at which he looked back ahead of him and all around, but was unable to spot his little pathologist.

"Where's Molly?" He directed his question almost accusingly to John.

"Back where we left her at her desk. Where else would she be?" John answered still in a huff and with his arms crossed over his chest.

"She was supposed to follow, why else would I say for the both of you to come along." He stated his reasoning to John as he started his way back to retrieve Molly.

…

Sherlock re-entered her lab and crossed the distance to her, instantly making her even more flustered.

"Molly what are you doing just sitting there? I said come along which implies you follow me." He stated as he, once again, stood rather close to her.

_Okay so not a dream after all_, she thought to herself. He leaned in getting increasingly close to her.

"So, w-what you said, that - you actually meant it?" She asked still doubting that she had heard right and that it truly did happen, he had proposed to her.

"Are you deaf or something woman? How many times do I have to say it, yes, now would you hurry up and come along Molly, we have a lot to do and time is of the essence." With that he grabbed her by the wrist and placed his other hand around to her back then pulled her up to him.

For a split second she thought he was about to kiss her, then he released her from his arm, but kept his other hand around her wrist, once again disappointing her and her dreams. He proceeded to practically drag her with him and left the lab with her in tow.

…

There goes another chapter, it's longer this time. Maybe you all don't think so, I'm never really quite sure how long a chapter should be (you can tell me what your opinion on that is), or where exactly I should end it.

I know I didn't include a lot of Sherlock and Molly interactions, but I needed to explain more about the case and go in-depth in it. I think you all know what's going on now, right?

Please don't hate me for using Molly like this.

If you liked it please let me know, thanks. Also, thank you to all those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed, it helps to know people are interested in the story and just makes me feel happy.


	4. Ch 4 - Contemplation and Confrontation

Ch. 4 - Contemplation and Confrontation

Hello everyone. I am very sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I have been busy with school and life. Enjoy reading.

I want to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I do apologize to any of you who have been awaiting this chapter, I know it took so long for me to finally update, but thank you for still coming back to read some more.

I only own the brain in my head and the ideas that come from it, sadly the idea of Sherlock did not originate from it.

…

She marveled at his long legs swiftly pulling both of them forward. It forced her own to try to keep pace with him as he was still holding on to her. Her gaze roved over him and lingered on where his hand intersected her wrist.

With the feel of his hand enclosed around her wrist she hoped he couldn't tell just how much her heart was beating. After everything that happened within the last few minutes, being caught off guard by his proposal and having him briefly take her into his arms, she couldn't help but be affected by this man.

It was astounding that he still held onto her as he briskly walked through the halls. It was so rare for him to allow anyone to touch him let alone actually be the one to initiate the touching. Sure the skin to skin contact was not exactly the same kind that would be expected to occur when a couple gets engaged, and his grip on her spoke no romantic intentions, but it still made her heart flutter.

No words were said as they continued through the hospital, the only sound was those made by their feet on the floor and the noise of people going about their day. At first she could have sworn everyone would be able to hear her heart beating among the myriad of noises, and she was sure Sherlock could tell how fast her heart beat, but from the lack of reaction, neither seemed true.

Sherlock had, of course, taken notice of her increased heart rate as he dragged her along, yet decided against saying anything on it. John would be proud of his forethought regarding her feelings, though he believed currently his friend was not too happy with him, for what reason he was not entirely sure.

What he did know is that if he should mention how quick Molly's heart rate had elevated after he had pulled her up towards him, she would become embarrassed, which he found rather bizarre since it was supposedly natural for people to be attracted to others.

He did find it odd, yet flattering, that she seemed so attracted to him. Yes, he had always known she liked his appearance, he knew and he took advantage of that many times in the past to get what he wanted from her. It was easy to charm her, especially in the beginning, she had become more able to resist him over time and due to exposure, but deep down she could never say no to him. He knew that well and used it often. It could be said that he was using her once again, but it couldn't be helped, there was a killer on the loose and he needed to catch whoever it was no matter the cost.

As they neared where he had left John steaming, he tilted his head to see how Molly appeared to be holding up. She was no longer looking at him, and instead faced forward with her head looking toward the ground which caused a few stray hairs to fall on her cheeks. Hair that, for some odd reason, he felt like touching, tucking it back neatly into place. Ignoring that, he took to scanning the rest of her and settled on gauging her thoughts and emotions showing through on her face, it never failed to reveal something to him. Her face, expressive as always, and still very red with embarrassment, appeared contemplative and yet distracted, a bit dazed and lost in thought.

At that very moment he wished he could really read minds, he wanted to know what had her gears turning in her head. He found that he often wondered just what Molly was thinking about when she would get that particular faraway look that meant she was in deep thought over something.

He could just ask her, but he never did. It would probably bring her out of her musing and he personally hated it when someone disturbed him when he was lost in thought, especially when he was near a break through. She would most likely talk about it once she reached her own conclusion anyway; at least that's what usually happened, so he could wait until her mind was done processing.

If he got too impatient he might snap her out of it, but he still would refuse to actually come right out and ask her what was preoccupying her mind. In the past when he had brought her out of her thoughts, she had apologized for getting distracted and would then proceed to explain why and inadvertently answer the question plaguing his own mind over what she could possibly be so absorbed in.

Sherlock once again faced forward seeing as he wasn't going to get the answer right then, and saw the figure of his best mate come into view.

…

As her heart raced so did her mind. She was still skeptical about this whole thing. She had conceded that it had not been a dream and brought herself into reality to face the situation. A big part of her was hesitant to accept it, however, an even larger portion was currently throwing confetti into the air in celebration as it rejoiced and whole heatedly welcomed this wonderful turn of events. Still, she needed to address the doubts that remained stubbornly in her mind.

She knew Sherlock so she was forcing herself to look at this logically and, to the best of her ability, removed from emotions, including the overwhelmingly elated feeling she was getting from believing that he truly wanted to be with her. It was hard to do, but she had to do it.

Of course she trusted him completely, with everything, even her life, but she wasn't sure if she could bring herself to completely trust him with her heart. He had, after all, caused it much distress over the years, bruising it and nearly shattering it at different points in time. She didn't know just how many more hits it could take before finally breaking into pieces. That's what warned her to not jump right into this blindly and reminded her to take caution.

Now she needed to think, sort it out and see if it really was his true intention to be with her and marry her.

First thing first, her mind continued to ponder if he was in love with her. If he was, then this would all make sense, but he was not a sentimental person - or at least he said he wasn't - and he never appeared interested in her that way before.

Had she just not noticed? Could that really be it, the answer to all of this is that he fell for her?

She would be thrilled if he felt the same as she did for him, the problem was there was no real reason for him to suddenly feel that way. They had known each other for years could he really up and decide he liked, no, _loved_ her? It could be possible, couldn't it? She was hoping this was the truth of the matter.

They were closer, but had he felt they had gotten closer than she realized? Maybe he had. Then, without proper knowledge of what to do with such feelings, instead of taking on a slow shift in their relationship, he came up with the idea they should wed. It sounded rather crazy and a huge leap from one spectrum to another, but it was Sherlock and he was quite unpredictable at times.

One thing she had noticed that was different, besides him being friendlier to her ever since the fall, was his frequent visits to her at St. Bart's - he always went there before, but now he went more often and not just when needing something from her or when on a case - and how they actually seemed to hold conversations with one another talking about relevant things not only about work, but branching their topics outside of it as well.

Were all those things signs of his growing affections towards her, or was she just making up something out of nothing because of her own hopes that what he was proposing was real?

She needed to consider other reasons for him to marry her.

Ulterior motives then? What could he gain from marrying her?

It couldn't be for money, she didn't have all that much and he never took to care much about that anyway. He always got what he wanted from her, so it couldn't be because he needed access to the lab or morgue, besides that would be a preposterous reason to marry someone. Her mind was drawing a blank as to any more reasons that could cause this sudden need to marry her.

There was nothing that she could think of which would lead him to marry her other than he must actually want to, that he truly is in love with her.

Still her mind pushed against this idea, believing it was like a dream come true and that meant it was too good to be true. Yet she could produce no other motive or reason that would make sense for him to want to be with her.

Taking notice of their slowing pace, she shook her head to clear it of all the thoughts roaming around inside. She looked up to see them coming upon John who had his arms crossed as he leaned his back against the wall where Sherlock had abandoned him to retrieve her earlier. She felt his fingers begin to slip off her wrist and let her go as he seemed to prepare himself for what was coming next.

…

As they approached him, Molly could instantly tell John was supremely pissed off.

Not only by the way his whole body was tensed as if fighting the urge to punch something, or even from how stiffly he leaned back against the wall with his arm crossed over his chest tightly, but the way his face was pulled into a deep scowl that looked rather unnatural on the usually cheery and joking man with a big heart.

Right now, it looked as if he wanted to murder his best friend right there in the hallway uncaring about any witnesses. It was probably the angriest Molly had ever seen John get at Sherlock, or anyone for that matter.

This was definitely not the kind of anger that was easily let go or turned into a joke to be laughed off, John was deeply upset over something which had Molly very concerned.

Upon seeing the two of them come closer to him, his hands balled into fists even though they were tucked under his arms. He then spoke in a voice like acid to his friend.

"You are really going to do this, aren't you?" The murderous look never left his eyes.

To which Sherlock simply answered in a completely calm voice, unaffected by his mates obvious death glare, "Of course, why would I suddenly have changed my mind in the ten minutes I've been gone?"

John shook his head in disapproval and disappointment at Sherlock.

"I can't believe you, I really just can't. How can you do this? Do you not see what you are doing? Can you really not understand? Are you that stunted, that you can't see how much pain this will cause?"

Sherlock stood straighter at the accusations and hostility thrown at him.

"I don't see what the problem is, I am doing nothing wrong."

Molly could have sworn she heard Johns neck snap as he jerked his head up so swiftly as soon as Sherlock had said that.

"Nothing wrong!" He roared as he sprung from the wall and came to stand at his full height with his arms no longer crossed over his chest and hands balled into fists at his sides. "You have got to be kidding me, you cannot truly be that stupid. I've known you for years and have never believed you to be this much of an idiot or this insensitive. There has to be some part of you that sees how what you are doing is absolutely horrid."

Sherlock's jaw tightened and his face became hard. "I am not, nor will I ever be stupid and what I am doing is not bad, I am doing good, helping. It's what I have always done and will continue to do. I am on the side of the angels even if I am not one of them."

John resisted the urge to beat him to a bloody pulp right then and there. The damn reference he brought up, John knew about it, Sherlock had told him all about exactly what happened between him and Moriarty, but right now he hated knowing that reference. He knew the significance of it and what the meaning behind it was, yet all it did now was make him want to hurt the consulting detective more. John knew Sherlock was using his job and catching the serial killer as a shield from admitting what he was doing to Molly, that he was using her and in the worst possible way.

Molly didn't understand what was going on, or why this fight was taking place. She watched on as the two glared at each other both clearly upset with the other. She was just about to speak to try and calm them both down and decrease the intense and stifling atmosphere, but John beat her to it and shocked her into silence with his words.

"You cannot do this Sherlock, you cannot marry her."

Molly was stunned by this, she didn't understand why John would be so against her being with Sherlock. She didn't see why he would be so upset over it and why he had gotten so angry at Sherlock over this to begin with.

For his part, Sherlock just looked away from John, but didn't look down in shame or guilt. "There is a lot to get done, we don't have time to sit around arguing over such a trivial matter. I am going to tell Stamford that Molly will be coming with us to help." With that he strode away leaving a bewildered and gaping Molly with a still very furious and disapproving John.

…

Her eyes followed him down the hall until he was out of sight before turning to face the ex-soldier who had resumed his position against the wall, hands over chest and face in a scowl as he stared holes into the floor. She wasn't sure how to approach this, or if something she might say could set him off making him yell at her as well.

Really, what was she to do in this situation? Faced with an incensed man who obviously did not want to even look at her, was she supposed to attempt to make peace with him even though she believed she had done nothing wrong and his state was not her fault? Now she doubted herself thinking maybe there was something she had done to make him be against her, well at least against her being with Sherlock.

She cleared her throat and waited until he met her eyes, but he didn't even look up. She cleared her throat again, louder this time to get his attention and gained the same reaction. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as her attempts proved futile and John seemed to refuse to even look at her let alone speak with her. So she made up her mind, she was going to have to poke the bear, she would have to speak to him first.

"Um… John?" Her voice was soft but nervous. She waited a beat for him to respond, when she was met with nothing, she continued. "I know you and Sherlock have had fights before, but that … well it looked like a bit much, and a lot more serious. I honestly don't think I have ever seen you so mad before, and I know you and Sherlock have a lot of mock fights that you two later have a laugh about, I've seen enough of them between you two to know the difference…" She trailed off again as she saw Johns face soften at her words and the plainly obvious nervous timbre in her voice.

He gave a nod to her in acknowledgment of what she had said which encouraged her to continue on.

"I'm not sure what all that was about just then, what I do understand is that you don't seem to approve of Sherlock marrying me, which I must say I don't really understand why. Why are you against us being together? I thought you would have been happy about it, or at least not angry that he wanted to be with me." Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp as she came to a realization.

At that John looked up at her and met her eye to eye. He wondered if she had just figured it out as it seemed something had dawned on her. Now he was going to have a hysterically weeping woman on his hands and it was all Sherlock's fault. His entire body switched to being open and ready to comfort the doctor who would most likely react by crying over that idiot hurting her again. He truly felt horrible for even being a part of this at all, he just hoped Molly wasn't going to hate him, or Sherlock, after she calmed down.

What surprised him was that, instead of sobs and a river of tears, Molly appeared to be trying to hold back laughter which only served to confuse the army doctor and make his brows pinch together. Molly moved her hand from her mouth when she was sure she wasn't going to burst out laughing, but couldn't entirely stop the smile on her face.

"I'm sorry." She apologized to John who just continued to stare at her in confusion. "I really, I didn't know, I should've I guess, realized it by now. I always thought they were just rumors, and you would always deny it, but it's actually true isn't it? I can see how this would be very hard for you, him wanting to be with me, and I hope it doesn't mean you no longer want to be friends or that you are going to hold a grudge against me."

She honestly seemed concerned he would not want to be friends with her anymore, but he was so thrown by what she was saying that he couldn't quite comprehend just what she was getting at.

"What are you talking about Molly? Why would I stop being your friend or ever hold a grudge against you? I was worried you would hate me, or Sherlock, or both of us if you found out what was going on."

"Hate you? You think I would hate you for that? Oh John, no of course not. I completely understand and would never begrudge you your way of life. Is that what you have been afraid of this whole time, that no one would accept you if you admitted it? I am telling you, you don't have to hide it anymore or pretend, it's alright to be who you really are. I would never judge you for that and I want you to know I am here for you if you need me."

John stared at her as he processed what she said. From the way she was talking it sounded almost as if she believed he were … _Oh for fuck's sake_.

"Molly, I'm not gay."

She sighed. "John, it's okay you don't have to deny it anymore, I understand and accept you exactly as you are."

"Thanks, but I'm not gay. I'm telling you, you have it wrong."

"Then why would you be so mad at Sherlock for wanting to marry me? Why are you so against it if it isn't because you want to be with him yourself?"

"That's not it at all, I do not want to be with Sherlock, not in that way, okay?" She didn't look convinced, instead she looked sympathetic as if he was just still trying to deny his feelings and hide them from her.

"I am not gay. I do not harbor any romantic feelings for Sherlock, and I most certainly do not want him for myself. If he were actually doing all this for the right reasons I would be all for you two being together. In fact, I often chastised him for being mean or rude to you and encouraged him to be nicer, kinder, and even pushed him more towards you, but none of that matters because he is a git and none of anything I have ever tried has worked. No, instead the only way he gets it into his head to be with you at all is for … is for …" He stopped himself in his rant before he could spill everything and held his breath as he looked at Molly.

She looked upset, her jaw was clenched and her face was set in determination. "**Is for what**, John?"

There was anger clearly present in her voice and he couldn't meet her eyes once again. Now he looked away from her and refused to answer.

"Just say it. Tell me why he is doing this? Is it some kind of game? Does he need something from me? What? What is it? Just tell me John!" Her voice was rising in pitch to the point that she had screamed the last part. Still he remained silent and wouldn't look at her.

"There's no need to get so worked up Molly." A baritone voice snaked its way into her ear. Her head snapped up to look at its owner's face which gave away nothing.

"Then tell me why you need me to marry you, Sherlock." Her voice was deadly, calm with a hint of her ire behind it directed at the man who had crept up next to them without either of them noticing beforehand.

"To save lives." His crystal blue eyes never left her face and he watched as it morphed going from emotion to emotion as thoughts raced through her mind.

"What does that mean exactly?" Her voice wavered and her face showed her vulnerability at that moment.

It was not his intention to be mean or hurt her, but after contemplating what John had said as he walked to Stamford's office and back, he was worried John was right and he would hurt Molly quite a bit. However, he needed her in order to stop a killer, so were her emotions and feelings more important than catching the serial killer and saving innocent people's lives?

He swallowed hard as he looked away from her and was met with Johns rather sad and guilt laden eyes. That did nothing to help, so he looked back at her as she awaited his answer. He steeled himself then took the plunge.

"It means people's lives are at stake, innocent people who will be killed if we don't stop whoever is doing this." He sounded almost defensive with his wording as if he needed an excuse to get her to help him with this.

"Let me get this straight, you are saying you need me to marry you so you are able to stop a murderer, is that right?" She sounded rather calm about the whole situation which internally eased Sherlock's worry.

"Yes, that's exactly right Molly." He nearly smiled with the relief he felt, though he hadn't even realized he had been tensed while waiting for her reaction.

"Explain to me how that would help you at all." Her voice didn't change, but her face had. She now had a low burning fire in her eyes that made his stomach knot back up immediately upon seeing it.

"Well, the killer targets people who are getting married and I have no other way of catching him, so I need you to marry me so I can set up a trap to get him."

"So essentially you were planning on using me as bait to lure out some psychopath all while under the ruse that I was marrying you? Were you even going to tell me about that part? Or was I going to be left in the dark while you hunted the killer at our wedding? Oh, how about the part where you didn't actually want to marry me and I was just convenient for you to use for this case, was that something worth mentioning to me? Or was that also going to be left out as I walked down the aisle to wed you, you bastard!"

"I see you are upset Molly, however -" She cut him off before he could continue.

"Upset! Oh can you see that I am upset Sherlock, well what great fucking deductive powers you have. I am impressed really you are truly amazing." Every disparaging comment she made was like another slap to his face, which honestly she felt like physically doing right now. He pushed down the feelings of guilt that started gnawing at him, feelings he blamed on her and that caused him to become angry and defensive toward her.

"Are you done?" To which he received a furious glower filled with that burning fire that ate away at his bones and down to the very core of him every time he saw it.

"I am so far from being done Sherlock, it's not even funny. First off, you are the most -"

John stepped in hoping to stop any more bloodshed before things went too far.

"How about we all just calm down and go back to the flat and discuss this like adults." John had calmed down considerably after Sherlock had left him alone with Molly and they had talked. Now he was the only levelheaded one among them.

"Calm down, you actually expect me to calm down and just accept this? He is using me for a case, a goddamn case! You think I am going to go anywhere with him right now? No, no bloody way am I just going to forgive him because he is socially inept and emotionally stunted. So if you have nothing else useful to contribute, please _do not_ interrupt me **again**!" She turned her attentions once again back on Sherlock.

John knew he shouldn't have even tried to get involved, he had never wanted to be part of the drama that was unfolding in front of him for that very reason, it got him into trouble all the time. This time it was with an irate woman who was not reacting the way he thought she would upon learning the truth behind Sherlock's intentions.

"Yep, there it is instant regret. I should've never even gotten involved. I'll just be over here keeping my mouth shut." With that John took himself out of the situation and remained on the sidelines watching the two of them glare at each other.

Molly was about to go into that list of things that she had begun before John had interrupted her, but she was then cut off again by Sherlock this time.

"Molly you and I both know that no matter what you say now, you will not put the lives of innocent people on the line just because you have some hurt feelings, so why not skip throwing a tantrum and just agree to help me by doing this. There is a killer on the loose and lives really do hang in the balance, so try thinking about them and not yourself, or whatever emotional turmoil you seem to have at the moment."

Molly had a whole range of emotions coursing through her, but the one that was winning out was anger, especially after that. He actually had the audacity to belittle her emotions and make her feelings appear insignificant in their entirety. Even after what he said, and she knew it was true which just made her all the more pissed off at him, she felt her ire increasing as well as the feeling that she was going to cry. She sometimes really hated Sherlock.

"Fine. I will do this. Just know that after this, everything will be different. Nothing is going to remain the same when this is all through." Her voice cracked and she wanted to run and hide and cry for a few hours undisturbed. She conceded that she would not in fact endanger people's lives, even if it meant jeopardizing her own heart and having it be tormented by that wanker.

He had made her feel like he actually wanted her. For that brief amount of time, she truly believed, had convinced herself it was the truth, that he wanted to be with her and marry her. Had she really been that delusional to think he would actually love her, yes she figured she was just that stupid to fall for it. Once again, he had managed to break her heart. How much of this could she really take? How was she possibly going to be able to see it through to the end? She was going to have to pretend to marry that man, and how was she to do that without finally losing herself completely?

Unknowing of her internal distress, Sherlock pressed on to get past all the fighting after finally being given her acceptance of the situation.

"Good then let's get started shall we? I'll call Lestrade on the way to the flat, and then I'll explain to you what is going on and how we intend to catch the killer…"

Insensitive, he really was uncaring of her feeling at all.

Did he even have the capacity to care? Or was he really a sociopath without the ability for feelings at all? Was she ever really anything to him at all, or was it all pretend?

His voice drifted off and before she realized it she was standing in front of them with tears streaming down her face. That seemed to shut him up though all he did was stare at her as she cried. She did not back down or look away, staring right back at him as more water flowed from her eyes. John grabbed her arm and then hugged her, but she didn't reciprocate or even move, just stared up at the consulting detective, the reason for her tears.

John said something to Sherlock, though she barely registered it. Then she found herself being ushered out by John and into a cab that took her to her flat where she did what she had wanted to, cried nonstop for what felt like days.

…

That's it for this chapter, hope you enjoyed.

It sort of took on a sadder and more depressing tone than I had meant it to. In my head Molly was super angry and she did feel betrayed and hurt, but I didn't picture her crying before I started writing it out. Then I thought, the man broke her heart again and after giving light to her hope that he would one day feel the same, it would end in deep gut wrenching hurt when she found out he was only using her once more. That's what led to the depressing end for the chapter.

Anyway, thanks for reading, until next time.

Please feel free to review, favorite, and/or follow.


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